


Purple, Black, and Blue

by yikesola



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2019, Dan’s hiatus, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hickeys, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 10:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola
Summary: Phil bites Dan’s neck again, his tongue on his skin immediately after to sooth and to dance with his words. “You love this. You’ve always loved this.” Of course he loves this. Of course Phil knows it.A fic about hickeys and what gets shown.





	Purple, Black, and Blue

Dan can feel Phil’s lips on his neck before he properly registers anything else, before the last strands of sleep leave his limbs, before his own thoughts have a chance to cloud his brain. He moves into it, threading his still uncooperative fingers through Phil’s hair.

“Morning, you,” Phil says against his skin, barely lifting his lips, his breath warm as his words.

“Mmm,” Dan offers, doing his best though his neck is too much of a distraction for him to offer any more.

The March sunlight is bright; it’s doing its best to flood their bedroom. Dan can feel it through his closed lids, the golden light which means they ought to get up soon.

They may not be as busy as they were this time last year, but they still have to-do lists ever demanding their attention. Phil’s cranking out main channel videos at a pace he hasn’t managed in years. They have IRL emails marked _urgent_ whether they actually are or not. The flat is in a dreadful state; they’ve got to get everything together. And Dan…

Phil’s teeth nipping at his skin interrupts Dan’s thoughts. He’s still at Dan’s neck and the added intensity is maddening. All these years later, Phil knows just what that sort of attention will do to him.

If he knows what’s good for him, Dan figures, Phil will at least follow through.

“Babe,” he croaks, “you’re gonna... you’re gonna leave a mark...”

“And?” Phil laughs. “So what if I do? You haven’t posted a proper photo in weeks.”

“Months,” Dan corrects, even if it doesn’t help his case.

“Exactly. What, today was the day the stars aligned and you were gonna film one of those scripts scattered on your desk?”

“It might’ve been, you could be ruining my grand return.”

“Guess you’ll just have to wear a turtleneck.”

“Yeah that won’t be blatantly obvious to everyone watching.”

“Could wear an ascot.”

“Could just shove you off my fucking neck.”

“Mm-hmm, sure Danny boy, sure you got the strength of will for that.” Phil bites him again, his tongue on his skin immediately after to sooth and to dance with his words. “You love this. You’ve always loved this.”

Of course he loves this. Of course Phil knows it. He always has.

It’s just, well, it’s not something they’ve indulged in as much as they used to. There were a couple of years there where they didn’t indulge in it at all. Because something as blatant as a hickey, well it raises all sorts of questions.

It’s why the intended to be innocuous line _something else in my mouth_ flopped the way it did, or not flopped rather but exploded. Because it’s one thing to make a joke about shoving shells up his ass, or making furry yiff and owo references. It’s, apparently, another thing entirely to say “jokes aside: laughter, food, and sex make me happy.”

But it does— laughter, food, and sex, and all of them with Phil— it’s when he’s happiest. Obviously. It doesn’t seem revolutionary to state.

The sleepiness is slipping from his limbs, and his fingers in Phil’s hair have actual ability to grip and tug now. He also moves his other hand towards Phil’s nipples. Because if Phil is going to pounce on his weak spots, Dan might as well play the same game.

The resulting gasp is delicious, as is the renewed attack on Dan’s neck that Phil offers in retaliation.

And just when Phil is pressing onto Dan’s shoulder in a way that’s shifting their positions and making Dan think all this teasing is going to get somewhere, the buzz of Brian on the bedside table roars through the room. Phil’s whole body jumps at the sound, and Dan laughs at him so he’s scowling when he answers Martyn’s call.

It’s about Phil’s new merch that’s dropping soon, and the intricate details Phil insists on getting _just_ right for better or worse. So their sleepy morning gone steamy is properly interrupted, and Dan stretches his spine until it pops and stands to brush his teeth.

He looks at his neck in the bathroom mirror. Some redness that won’t even bloom into bruises. Hardly more impactful than a blush.

When he’s done and Phil’s still on the phone, he figures he’ll be a helpful boyfriend and start the coffee and get the morning rolling.

His neck and it’s lack of markings is still on his mind a few hours later as he sits at his desk with those scattered scripts Phil had teased him about in front of him. They’d each make fine dinof videos. But is _fine_ enough to justify a year’s absence? Does he even need to justify it? Hasn’t he done so already, explained his absence in liveshows and on the tumblr Q&A and justified it just by trying daily to live his fucking truth?

He’s wondering what would happen if he filmed one of those fine scripts, if he pushed out content, _any_ content, with a dark and blatant hickey on his neck and made absolutely no reference to it.

It’d be all anyone talked about, sure, but if he blew it on one of his less-groundbreaking videos would that be the worst thing in the world?

There’s something cheeky about it that he can’t really get over. Something that says, despite the branding that he’s built around being both too lazy and awkward for socialisation, he’s a sexual being. He’s twenty-seven goddamn years old and his audience, he’s come to fully understand, are no longer entirely built of teenagers. Many are right around his age. They’ve grown with him. He’s _allowed_ to be a sexual being. He’s allowed to let his boyfriend suck on his neck.

He remembers a very old AmazingPhil video, back shortly after they first met in person and properly started their long, long journey to today.

A video where his enthusiasm had been expressed days before filming because they had actually been in the same place for once, and yet Phil still had a pretty visible hickey because Dan is nothing if not thorough. And the comments under the video that pointed it out, and teased insight into the fact that surely Dan was to blame. And because there weren’t nearly so many pairs of eyes on their videos back then, the whole thing felt naughty and flirtatious as opposed to terrifying.

Later, it would become terrifying.

Even a few years ago, innocent-branded AmazingPhil showing up in a video with a hickey on his neck for all to see would have been terrifying.

Because who could have possibly given it to him except for Dan? That mystery wife, the mother of his mystery kids that their audience drummed up for him a few years back— half in jest, half in dread? Not bloody likely.

But today, well, it’s just that sort of teetering out of the closet that they’re working with, isn’t it?

If he filmed with a big fat bruise on his neck, he’s saying to the audience… something.

He wouldn’t be coming out. He wouldn’t be dragging Phil out with him. He wouldn’t be condemning them both to making their relationship the product in a way they’ve vehemently avoided all these years.

But he would be nodding to people that he’s got a life outside of his content that involves sex. And he would be nodding to those that have shed their heteronormative shackles that logically the person to blame for his marks is Phil. Who else could it be? The secret significant other he supposedly ignores for all hours of the day to spend time with Phil instead? Nah mate, they’d know— he’d be _letting_ them know— it was Phil’s doing. 

It’s too much, and he’s not actually going to do it. But, fuck, there’s something about it that he likes. Likes just enough to bounce around his head for a while as Phil clacks away on the sofa editing his latest video.

He’s been stuck so deep in his own brain that he’s only jolted out of it when Phil places a steaming mug on the desk in front of him.

“Need a break?” Phil asks.

“Does it count as a break if I haven’t gotten any work done? Can I even call it that?”

“Finally, a use for my English Language degree,” Phil smiles, bending down to kiss Dan’s curls. “Yes, it counts.”

Dan smiles as well, mirroring him. He takes a sip of the tea Phil had placed before him, and looks at the clock to see that it’s well past noon. He’s going to suggest lunch when Phil’s hands start tracing nonsensical shapes along his bent spine.

It feels so nice, and he lets a breathy little sigh out so that Phil knows it. Their interrupted morning and its driving need seems to have crept back into them.

Dan tilts his head and bares his neck and reaches to pull Phil’s head closer. Phil answers the unasked plea, bending over the office chair further to kiss along the jut of Dan’s jaw. He has enough sense to place his mug back on the desk before Phil moves to kiss just behind his ear, to bite at his silver hoop, to chuckle warmly in a way that makes Dan’s breath hitch.

He’s still feeling bold. And his skin is beginning to feel warm.

He arches his neck further. “Leave a mark, Phil.”

It may delay a return to Instagram or YouTube by a few days, because as gripping as it is to think about, he’s not actually going to post a blatant hickey for all the world to see— he’s allowed to be a sexual being, sure, but fuck’s sake, this isn’t year nine— but at the same time, anything else might have delayed a return as well. A bad day, or a finicky editing quirk, or grumbling over ideal cabinet colours with Phil. He’s fine with this particular delay.

It seems Phil is too, as at Dan’s words he nips quickly at Dan’s skin. One hand has tangled itself in Dan’s curls and he’s not even going to bother worrying about how frizzy they’ll be once Phil’s done. Phil’s other hand has lifted the hem of Dan’s shirt and is tracing lightly along the skin there.

His own hands feel idle, but one lifts to press Phil’s head closer and keep him from drifting. He wants him there on his pulse point; he wants him there long enough to leave a fucking mark.

The other hand moves down to Phil’s wrist at the hem of his shirt. He guides Phil’s hand lower to palm him through his sweats where he’s already half hard. The choked sound Phil makes at that realisation and the bite he gives Dan’s neck makes his head spin.

When Phil moves his hand again, this time to slip into Dan’s pants and wrap around his cock, he takes his lips just far enough from Dan’s neck that the heavy breaths are so hot Dan thinks he’ll catch fire.

He doesn’t even have the wherewithal to groan at the opportunity for a rebranding joke, he’s just caught up in Phil— Phil’s lips and teeth and breath and hands and groans and _fuck_.

All of him. Every cell.

Dan’s proper panting, he’s letting moans slip out without keeping any sort of track of them. Phil moves to tug Dan’s sweats lower and before Dan has a chance to complain that the attention has been taken from his neck, the cool office air hits his dick and Phil’s lips are back to working on the begged-for mark.

Dan’s not great at noting time. He’s even worse in moments like these. But it does feel simultaneously like Phil works him over for ages— slickening his strokes with precome and sweat, working the skin of his neck until it should be tender and raw but it all just feels so good— and like everything is over far too soon.

When he comes he spills over Phil’s hand, and though Phil is generous enough to keep stroking him through it and keep working away possessively marking him up, Dan soon has to shove his hands away. It’s all a bit too much— so fucking good and honestly too, too much.

He’s tired down into his bones, but he still spins around in the office chair to face Phil who kisses him before he’s even caught his breath. He kisses Phil and feels him reach down into his own pants and begin stroking himself, his hand slick with Dan’s come. It rips a moan out of him as he processes it.

He mutters encouragements into the kiss, urging Phil on, begging him to come for him. It doesn’t take long at all.

They both whisper, “I love you” in their ragged breaths, coming back to earth feeling sappy and sated.

Dan stands in front of the bathroom mirror before they step into the shower, and he traces his fingers over the hickeys Phil had coated his neck with. They’re red and purple and will darken further as time passes before fading for good. He might let Phil take a few pictures of them while they last, but they’re not going to feature anywhere public as his social media hiatus will continue a few days more, at least, maybe even longer. Even if the thought of dropping a casual instastory with them on full display is cheeky and enticing.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading— come say hi on [tumblr](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/183589302054/purple-black-and-blue) !


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